


love and hate (why do they sound the same to me)

by ElizabethMikaelson



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, but also kind of doesnt, daddy issues hope, enemies to fuck buddies to kind of friends who fuck to friends who fuck to more, its a wild ride, its canon based but not a really specific time in the timeline, slowburn tho, who kind of hates lizzie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-10-01 18:10:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20361454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethMikaelson/pseuds/ElizabethMikaelson
Summary: And when she feels the taunting nickname between her legs, she knows that what she may feel for Lizzie is something which is separated from hate by a very fucking thin line.A very blurry line.





	love and hate (why do they sound the same to me)

**Author's Note:**

> this started as a simple 2k max dark hizzie fic and turned out a 10k slowburn only bcs my monkey writer brain was w r i t e,, anyways i tried my best and im p sure i did smth good so please enjoy it! also i put my own poetry i wrote so enjoy that too!!! please LEAVE COMMENTS AND KUDOS i rlly appreciate them! hope u enjoy this!!! i love u a lot!!

She has read about it, after Emma suggested the term to her.

“Father issues,” Emma had called it.

_ The internet used the phrase “daddy issues.” _

Hope doesn’t prefer either phrase, doesn’t prefer knowing there is something wrong with her, something as weird as that name sounded.

Her father died for the love he had for her, didn’t that make her immune to any such issues?

Yet she saw it.

How she loved the control, how she went rogue and dangerous when she lost it. 

She sees it for the first time when she has sex with Lizzie Saltzman.

Lizzie reminds her of her dad.

Reminds her of her dad when they go out, to a secret party in a pub in town.

She finds the blonde standing outside, shrouded in the darkness and drinking from a flask. 

The shadows played tricks on her eyes and Hope hates how dark Lizzie’s blonde hair looks, how the alcohol has darkened her blue eyes into shades of green. 

“Want some, Mikaelson? Or do you prefer to keep staring?”

She hates Lizzie’s arrogance, the way she smirks a little too proudly, a little too much like the way her dad used to smirk.

Perhaps that’s why she ends up with Lizzie Saltzman, three fingers deep inside of her in the alley behind the bar they had just lef.

The bricks against her back sting, but Hope enjoys the pain. Enjoys how she can’t see the details in Lizzie’s face, enjoys how the girl isn’t gentle, fingers in and out and rubbing at her clit until she has to bite into Lizzie’s neck to keep quiet, to keep the moans from breaking the sounds of the night

“Didn’t think you were this loud. Such a wolf thing from you, don’t you think?” 

Hope wishes she was a vampire then. Wishes she could suck the blood out of Lizzie until she was dizzy from it, she wishes she could get rid of the only person who reminds her of her dead father.

Because Hope _ hates _it. 

Hates that Lizzie used to give her _ hope _for having someone who could give her unencumbered love and pure support.

Hates that her father made her feel the same, made her feel as if he would always protect her, that he would support her with everything he had. 

Lizzie groans as Hope’s teeth bite in her skin, thrusting harder, and Hope feels her entire body against the wall, legs open and head falling back, biting her lip until it bleeds.

Hates that Lizzie left her the same way her father had.

Hates that both of them said _ goodbye _without even saying the word and leaving her in the middle of a storm.

Hates that she still doesn’t know why Lizzie hates her.

Hates that she can’t scream at Lizzie until all of her hate has left her body and her soul can finally be at peace.

But then Lizzie’s fingers hit _ that _spot and Hope is shaking in her arms, Lizzie’s entire body covering hers, the shadows covering them both.

“That was fast,” mutters Lizzie, dragging her fingers out and cleaning them with an handkerchief, that smirk again dancing across her lips, until all there was left of their _ thing _was Hope’s disheveled body.

And, yeah, Hope hates that too. 

How Klaus easily left her in a mess and then finally, left for her good.

How Lizzie easily moves from fucking her to acting as if they were out for a nice evening stroll. 

Hates how she sees her father’s disapproving glare in Lizzie’s eyes.

She wants to wipe that look off Lizzie’s face.

So she does.

It’s not right for a powerful being such as Hope Mikaelsons to kneel, it was a show of weakness, and remembers how her father once told her to _ never kneel, _never let anyone tower above her.

And yet she finds herself on her knees and under Lizzie’s skirt less than five minutes after her own orgasm.

Her father would be disappointed in her, but she doesn’t care right now. She loves that she could defy her father and perhaps spite him from beyond the grave.

What she does _ enjoy, _though, is how rough Lizzie is with her. There is an enjoyment in how Lizzie knows she is strong, knows Hope can kill her as easily as she can make her cum.

Perhaps that could make her feel better. 

Lizzie did siphon the dark magic and put it on Klaus.

Maybe a part of it had changed Lizzie.

Hope tasted honey in her lips and her fingers left angry lines in Lizzie’s thighs, yet she thinks about killing Lizzie even as she thinks about how the blonde moans louder when Hope’s tongue swipes her clit.

It would satisfy her hunger indeed. Satisfy her hunger of death, of always feeling like a shadow of her father when Lizzie would look at her.

But she doesn’t. Doesn’t want to kill Lizzie because she is stuck with these stupid issues from her fucking dead father.

So she decides upon the lighter alternative, give her an orgasm and makes sure that she drives Lizzie Saltzman crazy.

She succeeds at that, grins and Lizzie feels scared and turned on by the grin on her face, lips glinting from her juices.

“So quiet, Lizzie. Not such a bitch in heat when you’re getting fucked, are you?” 

Hope’s words are hot and angry against her lips, eyes flashing yellow and that’s how Lizzie crumbles, the hold on Hope’s neck tightening and making the girl groan and kiss her harder.

Later on, when Hope feels the heat drop off her body, they sit on the ground and Lizzie passes her the flask in silence.

“I still hate you.”

Hope’s smile is dark against the flask.

“I can still kill you, you know.”

Lizzie thinks she should be scared, because that sentence from Hope’s lips give her chills in a very _ wrong _way.

\--

It happens again, as all things in life do.

There is something in Lizzie which annoys Hope, the shadow of a person she misses with all of her heart.

There are times when she nearly asks her, eyes dark and hands shaking.

_ Did you take parts of my father in you when you put the hollow in him? _

_ Why do I feel this urge to kill you? Why do I hate myself for it? _

_ Does my father live inside of you to punish me? _

But she doesn’t. 

Lizzie grins as she stands by the gardens, radiating power and smugness, and Hope is reminded of her father, blonde hair and blue eyes and looking ready to face the entire world.

It’s not fair.

Hope hates when things aren’t fair.

It’s not surprising that she hates life, because life certainly isn’t fair. 

She waits until Lizzie is alone to grab her. She does it when Lizzie goes to spend some time alone by the Old Mill. 

“Is stalking me your new hobby, Mikaelson?”

Hope sits beside her, legs dangling off the roof and gripping it until her knuckles flash pale white.

“Your existence vexes me.” 

Lizzie doesn’t really seem hurt by that, only rolls her eyes and leans back.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Hope hates that, hates that she can see her father in Lizzie’s posture, in how easy she accepts Hope’s snark, in how she isn’t scared of her.

There aren’t a lot of people who remind Hope of Klaus Mikaelson.

She is pretty sure Lizzie would be the only one who wouldn’t really mind.

Hope kisses Lizzie again, eyes shut so she wouldn’t see the ghosts of her past haunting her.

Closes her eyes and only _ feels, _gets drunk and high on Lizzie’s touches.

Lizzie doesn’t really care about undressing her slowly, only slides her skirt down and nearly rips her shirt off. She is quick and Hope groans when Lizzie meets her eyes and slides her hand between her legs.

“You’re so tense, Mikaelson,” says Lizzie.

Hope groans, feeling full and moving her eyes away from Lizzie’s.

Yet, she can’t when she feels Lizzie’s hand on the side of her neck, thumb raising her chin and fingers tapping on her skin.

“Eyes on me when I talk. Impolite, don’t you think?” 

She hates Lizzie’s smugness, hates how sure of herself she sounds, and how she has Hope literally wrapped around her finger.

“Who are you? My father?” spits out Hope.

Lizzie slows down then, and her eyes seem to understand Hope. If only for a moment.

“Is that what this is?”

Hope moans when Lizzie’s fingers speed up again, tongue licking already wet lips.

“Some kind of fucked-up daddy issues? You really _ are _daddy’s girl, aren’t you?” 

That seems to light a fire in Hope, eyes glaring Lizzie and hands moving to her neck, tensing there and enjoying how her thumbs feel Lizzie swallowing.

It’s fucked up, what they are doing.

They can’t even stand each other in their life.

Lizzie can’t stop being a bitch to her even if she is fucking her.

Hope can’t stop having that dark need to just _ choke the life out of her- _

But she doesn’t.

She blinks her eyes and sees how there is a hint of concern on Lizzie’s when Hope feels wet trails in her cheeks.

“Shut up,” groans Hope. 

Lizzie removes her fingers, stills her yearning and her orgasm and Hope doesn’t know why she is crying. Was it the orgasm of the fact she _ hates _seeing the concern in Lizzie’s face?

“Just fuck me for fuck’s sake. Stop acting like you care, just stop-”

_ Stop reminding me of my father. _

_ Stop making me want to dig a hole in you and try to dig my father out from there. _

“Let it out, Hope.” 

Hope cries then, and when Lizzie’s fingers are inside of her again, she moans louder than ever, eyes closing shut.

_ Let it out, sweetheart. _

She hated it. All of it. 

Hope hated feeling the shadow of her father living in Lizzie.

“Daddy,” chokes out Hope, hands slipping down and gripping Lizzie’s shoulders, legs wrapping around Lizzie’s body and pulling her closer.

Lizzie’s eyes are wide and she continues fucking Hope, fast and hot, and Hope is overwhelmed by the mess of feelings clouding her mind.

“That’s it,” murmurs Lizzie. “Good girl, let it out.”

Hope comes then, still shaking with Lizzie on top of her, covering her from the slight coldness of the woods.

“Daddy,” murmurs Hope again, chanting the word like a prayer and not being surprised when Lizzie’s fingers move inside her again, thumb rubbing her clit hard, but gentler than before.

Lizzie doesn’t speak, only kisses Hope and drinks her moans in, drives her through another orgasm, and then lets her lay down, blue eyes glinting from tears.

Hope knows Lizzie hates her.

Hope knows Lizzie just _ stopped _talking to her, didn’t even care that Hope’s room was burned to ash, that all the memories she had of her father were destroyed.

Yet, with Lizzie wiping her tears away, she can lie to herself for a bit.

Can lie to herself just like she did when she thought her father cared enough to be beside her when her mother died and not appear for a moment and disappear into the shadows again.

Can lie to herself that Lizzie cares for her in her own way.

\---

She wakes up the next morning in her own room.

Hope isn’t surprised to find herself alone, wasn’t stupid enough to hope Lizzie would be there.

She does, however, find traces of Lizzie in her room.

Traces in the form of Lizzie’s jacket that she’s wearing, in the flowers resting by the window, in the coffee resting on her nightstand.

She doesn’t smell the flowers, doesn’t drink the coffee resting beside her.

Hope does, however, hug the jacket closer and feel a warmth she hasn’t felt for years. 

The shadow of her father isn’t as heavy as it usually is.

\---

Hope finds Lizzie in her room.

She sits upon Hope’s bed as if it’s her own, as if she owns everything, as if she owns the air that Hope breathes.

“What do you want?”

Lizzie raises an eyebrow and it’s annoying how her smirk hits her in both her gut and right between her legs.

“Depends on the context of the question.”

She opens her legs then and Hope gets the message clearly, hates that she lowers her head to stop herself from running at Lizzie and snapping her neck.

It’s not that she hates Lizzie.

Lizzie is the one who hates her.

But at times, her smirk is a little too edgy, her posture reminding Hope of a sphinx who knows her power, who isn’t scared of a being like Hope.

That’s how she finds herself in Lizzie’s lap, nails digging in her shoulders and Lizzie’s hand under her skirt.

“You called me something, last time,” murmurs Lizzie. Her eyes are focused on Hope’s face, fingers playing Hope like a piano she has spent years trying to master. 

“I did not-”

“Come on, say it again. I know there is some part of you that wants to.” 

Lizzie’s movements are sharp and hits spots in Hope that the girl didn’t even know existed inside of her.

Hope groans, riding her hand and enjoying the wince on Lizzie’s face when her nails dig harder.

“I know you have this hunger inside of you. Hunger for revenge, isn’t it? Hate for a father who tried his best, but never was enough for you.”

Hope’s eyes flash yellow, and she sees the honesty in Lizzie’s eyes and it reminds her of Klaus, sincere and soft and trying his best-

“_ Shut up.” _

But Lizzie doesn’t shut up. She doesn’t shut up and the need to snap her neck becomes stronger.

“I can see right through you, Mikaelson. I can see just how fucked up your father has left you,” continues Lizzie.

_ You were such a sweet little girl. Perhaps, I was always bound to leave you broken. _

Her hands are harsher, one fucking Hope without stopping and hard and the other on Hope’s neck, trying to keep her focus on Lizzie.

“Why not let that out? Especially since you hate me so much.”

Hope hates Lizzie then. Decides she hates the blonde with every single fiber of her being. 

Hates her stupid blue eyes which sometimes have a shadow of green, hates her blonde hair that she just wants to grab and hates her entire existence of reminding Hope of the ghosts of her past.

“Daddy! Is that what you want to fucking hear?” Lizzie smirks, smug, and Hope hates herself for falling right in the trap.

“Was that so hard? Good girl.” 

The praise is sudden from the girl, and Hope moans when she feels Lizzie’s thumb on her clit at the same time.

“God, just go faster-”

Lizzie hears her. For the first time, she nods her head and Hope rides her orgasm through tears, hugging Lizzie’s close to her chest.

Lizzie doesn’t move them for a while, lets Hope hug her until her breathing returns to normal.

Lizzie feels the need to take care of her, feels that maybe she and Hope are more similar than she thought.

“Don’t move, baby.”

Hope nods her head and Lizzie raises them up, Hope in her arms and legs wrapped around her.

Hope hates that Lizzie is gentle with her, doesn’t want her gentle, doesn’t want her to give Hope a reason to _ hope _ and then just _ drop her to the fucking ground- _

“Don’t take care of me. I don’t want your pity,” spits out Hope.

Lizzie turns to look at her, eyes showing her calmness and how unbothered she is.

“Sit down and shut up. No one has enough free time to pity you.”

She undresses Hope slowly, helping her put on a big hoodie and some comfortable sweatpants.

Lizzie doesn’t leave, only lays down beside Hope and pulls her into her arms.

Hope hates that she feels safe there, hates that she remembers feeling this safe back when Klaus hugged her and then just-

Left her.

Left her just after her mother died.

What kind of fucked up problem does she have to enjoy being with people who will probably fuck her up with false hope, just like her father had?

She straddles Lizzie, knees on the sides of her stomach and hands falling in her chest, feeling her heartbeat.

“You remind me of a part of my past that haunts me everyday.”

(Lizzie doesn’t seem scared, Hope hates that too.)

“What are you going to do then? Kill me? I’m sure that wouldn’t erase the reminder your past that has you so messed up,” replies Lizzie.

There isn’t any malice in her words, just the truth said in raw Lizzie Saltzman fashion. 

The truth Emma would tell her in soft and gentle words. 

The truth Lizzie slaps on her face in the most blunt way.

“I see my father in you sometimes,” murmurs Hope. Her hands tighten their hold on Lizzie’s shirt. 

“I see him and I hate that both of you look at me with the same hidden hate.”

“Your father doesn’t hate you. Didn’t he _ die _for you?”

Lizzie gasps when Hope’s hands move to her throat, applying pressure. She knows Hope won’t hurt her, stares right in her dark blue eyes.

“He _ left _ me. He left me alone with a gaping hole in my chest that nothing else can fill.”

Lizzie chuckles, Hope can feel her heartbeat under her hands. 

“Did you try meaningless sex? That is definitely one of the top ways to fill that hole and others.”

Hope isn’t amused, keeps thinking that maybe snapping Lizzie’s neck might free her from her demons.

Lizzie stares at her silently for a moment. “You don’t hate your father.”

Hope stares at her, taken aback, and her hold on Lizzie’s neck goes slack.

“You hate yourself for not being selfish enough to make him spend more time with you.”

She’s right, and the truth hits Hope harder than a truck at full speed. 

Hope’s shock gives Lizzie a chance to move, sitting up and letting Hope straddle her thighs instead, hands leaning on the bed, their heads close together.

“You don’t hate your father, you never really did. But it’s easier to hate him than to face the truth.”

“And what’s the truth? Since you seem so sure and all-knowing.”

She knows that Lizzie understands that her snark is just a defense mechanism, that she is hating the lack of control she has in this situation, hates the power Lizzie has over her. 

But if she is the unstoppable force, then Lizzie is the unmovable object.

Because Lizzie doesn’t care that Hope hates the truth laid bare before her, doesn’t move away in fear of what she can do.

Lizzie only looks at her, face pensive and understanding, a broken soul looking in a mirror

“The truth is that you hate yourself. Because you can’t move on and be strong if you wound yourself everyday with the past. Because you still blame yourself for what happened to him.”

Silence.

That’s the only thing between them.

Hope stares at Lizzie and suddenly she sees parts of her father that she hadn’t seen before. She sees the understanding and the part of him that saw her darkness and tried to pull her out from it.

“Get out.”

Lizzie’s face doesn’t change.

Hope doesn’t move away.

“No.”

Silence again.

Hope stares at her, moves her hand in her neck again and this time Lizzie doesn’t look scared at all, only slightly bored.

“I can kill you right now if I want. Your father will trust me enough to believe my version of any story.”

Lizzie rolls her eyes.

“But you won’t, as much as you love hurting me and destroying my life.”

There is a hate in her eyes which Hope can’t understand. It reminds her of her father and how he probably hated her, deep down.

He died because of her, an Original dying for a child. 

“Fine. You’re right,” says Hope. Lizzie only shrugs, hand behind Hope’s head pulling her to her chest.

It’s warm, being this close to Lizzie. Warm and safe and Hope _ hates _that she knows this feeling will probably leave her in the morning.

“Sleep.”

That’s what she does.

No other words said, no goodnight or sweet dreams. 

\--

Lizzie isn’t there when she wakes up.

Her sheets do, however, smell like her.

It’s calming, and Hope hates that.

\--

“Got more holes to fill?”

Hope hasn’t even spent ten seconds with Lizzie, and yet the blonde manages to annoy her with five simple words.

“Does your head count and is your brain a filling I can choose?”

Lizzie rolls her eyes, feet dangling on the edge of the pool.

It’s late, around three am the last time Hope checked.

She was sure that they were the only ones awake. The only people in the school who hated each other and yet found solace in sleeping with each other.

It was a mess, and Hope was too lazy to unpack it for now. 

They don’t talk for a while, and Lizzie continues reading her notebook and Hope stares at the stars, traces constellations with her eyes.

“You know,” starts Lizzie, pausing to look at Hope. “I’m reading my dad’s diaries, the ones about his past. Trying to understand him better.” 

Hope doesn’t understand why she tells her that. Was it to rub it in her face that she had a father while the only thing left from her father that Hope still clung onto was her daddy issues?

“And?”

Lizzie bites her lip, a thoughtful look in her eyes. “I was reading about your father. I don’t really remember the day when we...” Silence hangs over them and Lizzie coughs. 

“You get what I mean. But my point was that, even in his death, my dad still painted him as this big villain with no soul.”

Hope stares at her in surprise, mouth dry from how sincere Lizzie’s words were.

She knew how Alaric saw her father, knew how he cared in his own way to protect Hope and yet-

At times she hated it. Hated it when she did something bad and all Alaric could see and blame was her father’s legacy.

“He did kind of murder thousands of people-“

“He didn’t in his death,” interrupts Lizzie. “I know that in a way it has been drilled into you to say that, but your father did sacrifice himself for you. So did your uncle from what I read.”

Hope nods her head, blinking her tears away.

Lizzie doesn’t console her. Hope knows this isn’t the right time to want comfort. 

“What I mean to say is that,” Lizzie turns fully at Hope then, the lights from the pool reflecting in her ocean blue eyes, “your father loved you, Hope. And he was absent from your life for reasons you know, so I kind of understand what it means to have a father who-”

“You understand nothing,” snaps Hope.

She didn’t want Lizzie’s pity, didn’t want the blonde to get close.

She didn’t want Lizzie to become a person who would give her hope and then snatch it away.

Lizzie stares at her. “My father treats me like a mental case. He rarely talks to me because of his job and you being his favourite. I might still have him alive, but I know what it means to have a father who tries his best in his own way, but never realizes that it isn’t in the way you need.”

Hope is silent then, left speechless, and she stares at Lizzie.

Stares at Lizzie and thinks of the times she heard Josie and Alaric running in the hallways.

Thinks of when Josie referred to her breakdown as something to clean up.

Thinks of how she always understood why her father was away, why he had to be away and yet still-

“I never hated him,” mutters Hope. Lizzie nods her head, closes the diary and places it on the other side.

“Disaster would follow if we were too close. He tried being there when Mom died but-“

She can picture the fire as if it was burning right before her. Bright and big and coming closer and Klaus was crying beside her and torn apart over trying to leave and trying to be with his daughter.

“It never was his fault for being away.” Hope licks her lips and feels the saltiness, realizes she is crying when Lizzie’s eyes on her face become softer.

“I just-”

Lizzie raises her hand, places it on her cheek and Hope closes her eyes and yet the tears still manage to fall.

“I wanted him to try more, to call more, to just _ try- _“

Her sobs wreck her body and Lizzie only pulls her closer, fingers threading through her hair.

That’s how Hope realizes she doesn’t really hate Lizzie, with their feet still in the pool and sitting side by side and with her crying against Lizzie’s shoulder, the girl’s hand in her hair.

“Come to my room,” says Hope after a while, with her tears dried and forehead still leaning on Lizzie’s shoulder.

Lizzie nods her head and both of them get up, walking in silence side by side. They don’t try to hold hands, don’t try to push each other against the wall and make out.

Hope closes the door and Lizzie sits on the bed without a word shared, resting there until Hope slides in bed too, straddling Lizzie’s thighs.

Hope doesn’t really hate Lizzie and right now, she hates that fact a lot.

Lizzie doesn’t break eye contact, blue eyes staring right into Hope’s and the girl can’t look at her.

Can’t look at Lizzie because she _ can’t _ let Lizzie look into her soul. 

That’s when she remembers Lizzie’s outfit, way too classy for just sitting by the pool in the middle of the night.

“Can I?” Lizzie nods her head and Hope’s hand go to her neck, raising the collar of her shirt slowly.

She rests her hands there for a moment, taking in how the collar doesn’t even cover her neck completely, how the red tie is let loose and how the Salvatore symbol rests proudly in the shirt’s pocket.

Her hands work slowly yet efficiently, taking her sweet time to untie the tie. Lizzie doesn’t seem scared or in the edge or anxious, only keeps looking in Hope’s face.

Hope moves to throw the tie away, but Lizzie shakes her head. Her hand is warm as she wraps it around Hope’s, raising it to her head.

They don’t need words to understand each other and Hope ties the red tie around her head, blindfolding Lizzie and finishing it with a neat bow.

“I’ve always noticed something about you,” says Lizzie.

Hope waits in silence, enjoys how it takes a moment for Lizzie’s hands to find her hips and how warm they feel against her shirt.

“Should I congratulate you on having a brain, Lizzie?”

Lizzie chuckles and her hands sneak under Hope’s shirt. “Not so cocky, Hope. You might be a tribrid and I might be blindfolded, but that doesn’t mean I’m anywhere close to being helpless.”

There’s that show of power again, that cockiness, and hint of smugness in her voice. Hope is reminded of how much she despises it.

A beat passes in silence. “As I was saying. Ah right, I noticed that you keep holding back. As if there is something you want to do, but don’t allow yourself for whatever reason you might have.”

Hope’s breath hitches, goosebumps erupting on her skin as one of Lizzie’s hands finds hers, bringing it to her neck.

Her eyes stare at the red tie and she wonders how someone could affect her this much without even looking at her.

Hope was scared, scared of looking into Lizzie’s eyes and seeing things she tried so hard to run away from, to ignore and shake away. 

And yet, even with Lizzie’s eyes hidden, Hope was left shaking in her lap.

Lizzie’s heartbeat was calm under her fingers but she was sure that the blonde could feel her erratic pulse. It was a sight to behold, red tie clashing against blonde hair, shirt half opened and Hope’s hand against her throat and Lizzie’s lips-

She kisses her then, lowers her head and meets Lizzie’s lips in a heated kiss.

Her hand on Lizzie’s throat tightens, makes her feel powerful and dark and-

Lizzie doesn’t say a word, doesn’t say anything as Hope whispers _ suffoco _and the grasp on her neck remains without Hope’s hand.

She undresses her without caring, throwing clothes on the ground until Lizzie remained naked before her.

The blonde was breathing heavily, chest heaving and mouth open. Hope knew she couldn’t have held herself back in making Lizzie her personal blood bag if she was a vampire.

Hope kisses her body roughly but slowly, leaves hickeys and paints a constellation with her mouth on Lizzie’s skin. 

She looks up at Lizzie then, her hands not moving and clenching the bed sheet. It was so fucking beautiful, Lizie was so beautiful, and it made Hope’s heart beat faster and she wanted to _ hear _Lizzie-

Something snaps inside of her, and the spell disappears in a moment.

“You could have siphoned that spell,” says Hope, straddles her thighs and sneaks her hand between Lizzie’s legs.

It’s better like this, with Lizzie’s eyes tied. There is a freedom in not having to stare into ocean eyes and having to rethink your whole life.

Lizzie takes a couple of deep breaths. “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me, Mikaelson.”

Hope frowns, adds a finger inside of the blonde and Lizzie lets out a silent moan.

“You shouldn’t trust me so much.”

Lizzie moves her hips, almost begging Hope to go faster without words.

“Sadly, I trust you even if I do hate you.”

Hope smiles, presses her hand just right and has Lizzie gasping against her lips.

That was what she wanted, that was what she craved and yet-

“Oh, I know.”

And yet, as Lizzie comes with a loud moan, kissing Hope, it doesn’t feel like enough.

It doesn’t feel like enough until Lizzie groans and takes off the tie, throwing it on the ground, eyes moving to meet Hope’s.

“Your turn now, _ baby girl.” _

And when she feels the taunting nickname between her legs, she knows that what she may feel for Lizzie is something which is separated from hate by a very fucking thin line.

A _very_ blurry line. 

\---

Hope wakes up the next morning in warm sheets and with a body against hers.

She isn’t scared, smiles and snuggles closer and enjoys how warm she is and how the arm wrapped around her waist pulls her closer.

But then she remembers three things. She fell asleep with Lizzie. Lizzie slept over. And she may have feelings for the blonde.

Her eyes snap open. 

“Fuck,” mutters Hope as she slowly untangles herself from Lizzie’s arms. She grabs her clothes from the ground, pausing as Lizzie moved to hug Hope’s pillow. 

It was so damn soft, and it makes Hope pause and enjoy it before she remembers she has to _ leave. _

The door closes slowly and blue eyes open, staring at the pillow without a smile.

\---

Lizzie reads the note Hope has left on the nightstand lazily, blanket falling to her lap and yet she couldn’t feel the cold.

_ I have clothes in the wardrobe. Pretty sure some will fit you. _

_ -Hope. _

Lizzie laughs and shakes her head, slipping off the bed with a smirk on her lips.

\---

Hope manages to avoid Lizzie all day, almost as well as she avoids her feelings and her past traumas.

Perfectly and with the greatest ease.

It’s around midnight when she is resting in the darkest corner of the library when Lizzie finds her.

Hope leans against the wall, looking out of the window and thinking about the sick joke that is her life.

Lizzie had helped her with more than just having good orgasms, she had to accept that. The blonde helped her accept things about her past that even Emma hadn’t delved deep enough to uncover. 

Lizzie had helped her face her past. Face the fact that it was neither her father’s fault nor her own that they couldn’t be together for longer than the time that they had. That her father loved her and that it was okay for her to accept that without hating him for the fact that he probably could have tried harder to be around more.

She didn’t hate Lizzie, and that was scary enough because Hope operates in two dualities - she either outright ignores someone’s existence or she gives them her all.

And at this point, she didn’t know what was scarier.

Realizing she didn’t really want to murder Lizzie or the fact that she may be ready to give her everything that she had within her. 

“And here hides the wolf. Isn’t it supposed to be the opposite?”

She nearly jumps when Lizzie stands before her, having been lost in her thoughts. Hope stares at her for a moment, blue eyes glinting from the moonlight seeping in through the window.

“I wasn’t hiding. From you. Or anyone.”

Lizzie raises an eyebrow and nods her head, taking a step closer.

Hope takes a step back.

“You didn’t start the rumors about my… episodes.”

She stares at Lizzie, confused.

Another step back, another step forward.

“What rumors?”

Lizzie stares at her and her smile is small and her eyes are full of hope.

Another step forward, another step back.

“It doesn’t matter now.”

Hope feels small between the library walls and Lizzie.

Another step back, another step forward.

“What are you doing, Lizzie?”

Her voice is small, clipped, and she gasps when her back hits the wall, stuck between two rows, Lizzie standing before her.

Another step forward, no more steps back.

Lizzie’s smile falls, eyes hooded as she leaned closer to Hope’s lips.

“What you are too much of a coward to do.”

Lizzie’s lips meet hers and Hope thinks that maybe it’s not that hard not hating Lizzie.

Her lips are eager against Hope’s, soft and kissing her just right, tongue slipping as Hope gasps, hands touching and grasping and-

It’s overwhelming, it’s good, and Hope still doesn’t know what she feels-

“I can’t, we can’t-”

Lizzie hums, lips moving lower and Hope raises her neck, hands fisting in Lizzie’s shirt, bringing their bodies closer.

“Cause you can’t talk out what you feel? God, Hope, first with your daddy issues and now with me. I’m starting to think you haven’t learned English all these years.”

Her tone is soft, even if her words are filled with sarcasm and Hope hates the fact that she enjoys it, legs tightening around Lizzie’s leg which has slipped between hers.

“How about this,” proposes Lizzie, raising her head to look at Hope. “I’m pretty sure I saw you writing poetry once. Have you written one about me?”

Hope stares at Lizzie, shocked and the blonde is unfazed, pulling Hope’s shirt out of her skirt.

“How-”

“Have you?”

A moment passes, Lizzie’s hand remains at her zipper.

Hope nods her head, Lizzie smiles and pulls the zipper down slowly.

“Tell me one then. If you hate talking about feelings outright, poetry is the better choice.”

The skirt pools at her feet. “Now?”

Lizzie raises an eyebrow in a challenge, unbuttoning Hope’s shirt just enough.

“There’s no time like the present, am I right?”

Her bra is out, Lizzie wastes no time raising it. A quick method, which makes her skin explode in goosebumps.

“Yellow and blue, a combination of things that makes me happy,” blurts out Hope. Lizzie lets out a chuckle, lips moving down.

Hope feels as if her entire body is in flames, ears focusing on hearing footsteps around them, and eyes moving from Lizzie’s to the ceiling.

“Why?” asks Lizzie, voice quiet as she grasped a nipple in her mouth. Sucking and biting.

Hope moans, hand moving to pull at Lizzie’s hair. It felt too soft, softer than last night, softer than that night months ago.

Both times she was standing and Lizzie was going down on her.

This time it was the same and yet so very different.

“It’s pleasing to my eye, artistically and-” Lizzie bites down, Hope takes a moment to remember what she was saying, “-and poetically.”

“That’s a simple answer.”

Hope feels like punching Lizzie then, because how dare she talk all normal and _oh, such a simple answer _when Hope felt like she was going to burst from all the emotions she was feeling-

“I just love how good the sunset looks. How the rays of the sun,” another moan, another bite, “reflect on the blue sea.”

Lizzie is slow with her movements and yet precise, kissing her body in all the right places and trailing her hands up and down Hope’s body.

It reminds Hope of how they were in the beginning, all movements to get to know each other’s body more.

But now it felt more like a touch of enjoyment, trailing fingers in the map Lizzie could draw with her eyes closed. 

“I feel my heart full when yellow and blue-” a finger dipped in, her voice goes higher and she bites back a moan, “merge in the sky as the sun dips behind the sea.”

Lizzie grins, raises her head as her fingers lower Hope’s panties. They had done worse, Hope can easily remember herself behind Lizzie, blue sheets in a mess and Lizzie gasping as Hope entered her from behind, body covered in sweat and hickeys-

But now it felt dirtier and yet more intimate. She could see Lizzie’s face, moonlight reflecting in the blue of them and lips open in a smile as she stared at Hope.

She didn’t, _couldn’t_ move her eyes away from the girl and Hope enjoyed it.

“I love the rays of the sun on my blue bedsheets.”

Another finger dipped in, Hope’s head leaned back, eyes closed as she lets out a low moan.

“Interesting, do continue,” murmurs Lizzie, still tall enough to keep eye contact. Hope groans, her words turning into a gasp as Lizzie enters her slowly.

“I love blue eyes and golden hair.”

Hope remembers waking up with Lizzie by her side.

Lizzie with her lazy grin and blue eyes which stared at her in amusement as Hope woke up in a sweat after she realized she was late for training with Alaric.

Lizzie sitting in her bed and acting as if it was her own room, posture relaxed and almost cocky.

“Most of all-”

Lizzie grins, adding another finger and enjoys how Hope leans more against her body, pupils blown and hands tightening their hold on her shoulders.

“I love blonde hair spilled on blue sheets-”

She _ feels _ the edge, sees it a mile away and Lizzie doesn’t stop, touches her harder and _ just right- _

“Tangled in a mess created by my own fingers,” breathes Hope out, almost sobbing as Lizzie’s thumb meets her clit.

She feels it coming and she sees Lizzie looking down, probably to enjoy the mess she has made of Hope Mikaelson.

Her hands move to Lizzie’s face and they bring her closer, breathing her air and almost kissing her.

“I thought I found gold on the sea-”

The edge is closer, Lizzie is closer than ever-

“But then I realized it was simply just you.”

And she falls. 

Falls apart in Lizzie Saltzman’s arms in a dark corner of the library at midnight.

It takes moments to get herself together, and Lizzie doesn’t move, lets her rest until Hope pushes her slowly away.

“It feels better not running away, doesn’t it?”

Lizzie smiles and Hope can only nod her head, letting it fall back against an old bookcase.

\---

Lizzie takes her to her room in silence, with hands playing and fingers lacing, shy glances shared. There was no need for words.

“I think this is my room,” says Hope. Lizzie raises an eyebrow, tilting her head as she looked at the girl.

“Meet you tomorrow to talk more?”

Hope rolls her eyes. “Not earlier than nine am please.”

“Is eight okay if I bring a coffee with two sugars and cream?” Lizzie smiles at Hope’s surprised face, stepping closer and cornering her against the door.

“Sure,” breathes out Hope. 

Lizzie’s eyes seem to shine under the low light of the hallway, burning into Hope and enjoying the reaction she could elicit from the tribrid. 

“Goodnight, Hope.”

Lizzie turns to walk away.

Hope’s eyes widen, grabs her wrist and stops her from leaving.

“Wait,” murmurs Hope, pulling Lizzie closer. 

Lizzie isn’t surprised when Hope’s hand on her cheek brings her closer, meeting her lips in a gentle kiss. Hope walks backwards and she finds herself making out with Lizzie against the door of her own room.

Hope breaks the kiss with a smile, thumb caressing her lips. “Goodnight, Lizzie.”

Lizzie gives her a last look before smiling, a soft blush on her cheeks as she turned to leave. 

Hope stops as she opens her door, raising her head and finding Lizzie standing at the end of the hallway, looking at her. Watching her. 

It’s a glance that is loaded with words than any conversation that they could ever share.

She enters her room and Lizzie turns the corner.

It feels too much like the end of something and the start of something else.

\--

_ Gold is my favourite color. _

Looking at Lizzie becomes easier after that night. There are no more shadows following her, no more hints of despair or dreams of murder.

And that’s nice. Hope realizes that looking at Lizzie becomes a favourite past time of hers.

_ Gold is the sun when you come into my room. Gold is how the room is illuminated when you open the door and close it again. _

“I see you are enjoying yourself here,” says Lizzie as she enters her room. Hope nearly screams, brush falling on her lap.

“Jesus, Lizzie! Haven’t you learned how to knock?”

Lizzie raises an eyebrow. “The only reason you might have your door closed is because you may be naked. So, that isn’t much of a problem for me.”

_ Your hands touch my skin and the burn makes me feel like melted gold. Your skin against mine is a clash of gold, your caress is a sliver of dripping gold. _

Hope rolls her eyes and holds out her hand. Lizzie walks up at her, takes it and and hugs her from behind as Hope looks at her painting.

“What is this…mess supposed to be?” Hope shakes her head fast and enjoys how Lizzie groans, digging her chin on Hope’s head.

“Jerk. And it isn’t finished yet,” replies Hope. Lizzie hums and lets her continue paint, hands still resting on her shoulders and her chin on Hope’s head.

She feels Lizzie’s hands on her chin, playing with her cheeks until Hope let her head fall back, staring up at Lizzie.

“What is it?”

_ Gold drips from your mouth which each kiss, with each word. _

Lizzie only kisses her, soft and warm and Hope is left blushing after. 

She smiles as her thumb rubs the lipstick off Hope’s lips. “Just that. I came here to relax and take a nap.”

Hope nods her head and Lizzie leaves with another kiss, skipping to the bed and putting her shoes away as she let herself fall back on the sheets. 

They don’t talk for a while, Hope painting and Lizzie staring at the ceiling.

“Josie lied to us.”

Hope steals a look at her, putting her brush down.

“Why?”

Lizzie breathes out, looks at Hope with an unreadable expression.

“She was the one who told me you started the rumors about my episodes. And the one who set your room on fire.”

Hope feels something in her breaking, remembering Josie’s smile and how well they fought together. It felt like betrayal, like a friend breaking your trust and never saying a thing.

“I still haven’t forgiven her.”

Lizzie meets her eyes and Hope knows she understands Hope’s position, understands what it means to have been lied to.

“Why did she do it?” Her voice is quiet, staring at the painting instead of Lizzie. She couldn’t make eye contact. Not now. Not in this moment. 

“She said she had a crush on you. And that she didn’t want me to know because I always won. About the room, she just said that she had slipped a note under your door and regretted it. She never meant to burn your room,” replies Lizzie. 

There is pain in her voice too, Hope notices.

Hope nods her head, thinks of a teenage Josie blushing and looking at her every day.

Thinks of a sixteen-year-old Josie who still longed after her ex-girlfriend.

“I’m sure that isn’t a problem anymore. Besides, the past is in the past.”

Lizzie nods her head and decides upon not telling her the rest, letting silence to fall over them again.

She doesn’t leave, waits for Hope to finish painting and pulls her from her overalls to bed, leans on top of her with a smirk.

Lizzie is an artist of her own, paints Hope’s body with kisses and the room with their voices, with their moans and whispered words of passion.

Lizzie kisses her fuller now, kisses her without holding back, fears of the past and the anger left behind at the door. She kisses Hope the same way that she had come into Hope’s life, surrounding her and making her dizzy with only her.

_ Gold is the sun when you leave. Gold is the room when you get up slowly, the first rays of the sun entering my room before anything else. _

“I thought we were past the walk of shame,” remarks Hope.

Lizzie laughs as she puts on her pants, looking at Hope’s reflection in the mirror. The girl remains in bed, hugging Lizzie’s pillow and staring at her with eyes clouded by sleep.

“I have to go get ready for the day,” says Lizzie, walks up to Hope while still buttoning her own shirt.

Hope leans her chin on the bed as Lizzie moves on her knees, head in level with Hope’s.

“Meet you at the gardens for breakfast? It’s Saturday, so we can even use the kitchen.”

Hope nods her head, raises her hand and places a strand of blonde behind Lizzie’s ear. She’s softer when tired, and Lizzie enjoys that about Hope. 

“Don’t forget coffee,” murmurs Hope. Lizzie nods her head and both lean in for a kiss, smiling softly.

Lizzie yelps in surprise as Hope pulls her in, the girl falling in the bed laughing as Hope straddles her.

_ Gold was your blonde hair on my blue bed sheets, messed up and like a halo of an angel. I ran my fingers through them and thought that if gold wasn’t supposed to be that warm, to hell with it all. _

“I need my good morning food.”

Lizzie shakes her head, keeps Hope’s head from moving lower.

“Absolutely not. I’m already late to start my day, no thanks to you,” says Lizzie. Hope pouts, pushing her face against Lizzie’s hand like a puppy.

“I guess I’ll settle for just,” Hope moves and sits up, still straddling her and the sheet falls down, covering more Lizzie than her, “cuddling you.”

Lizzie shrugs as Hope’s hand move to her hair, unbothered by the view. 

“You win some you lose some. I still can’t feel my legs from last night.”

Hope smiles as Lizzie’s eyes fall closed, her hand tugging gently at the knots in her hair. 

“You spent a lot of time on your knees, so that’s not really my fault.”

Lizzie blushes red at that, flashes of the night coming back to her.

_ Hope, tired from her orgasm, smirking as she motioned for Lizzie to go higher. _

_ Lizzie, groaning as she gripped the headboard, clenching her thighs to not trap Hope’s head between them. _

_ Meeting blue eyes and falling off the edge without a parachute. _

“Shut up and stop playing with my hair. Some of us actually need to pay attention to getting ready,” says Lizzie. Hope rolls her eyes, leaning down to give her a kiss.

“It’s such a shame you have to leave,” murmurs the girl before rolling off Lizzie.

The blonde turns to look at her, eyes glinting and smile wide. Her hand lifts to rest on Hope’s cheek.

“Meet you later?”

Hope nods her head.

“Meet you later.”

Lizzie leaves with another kiss and Hope enjoys watching her go, her lips burning.

_ Gold is my favourite color, and also my favourite memory. A sliver of sun, a sliver of a big smile, a dripping sound of golden love echoing in my heart. _

\---

“What are you doing ton- Josie.”

Hope doesn’t expect to see Josie in her twin’s room, has seen her spending more time in Penelope’s, both of them trying again. It seems that perhaps Hope has had a more positive effect on Lizzie than she first thought.

She had avoided speaking with Josie since Lizzie had told her about the lies. Hope wanted to give it time, wanted to play it cool.

But here, now, Josie was sitting in her bed with a book and her eyes are nervous, wary as they look at the tribrid. 

“Lizzie is just taking a shower. I came over to talk. I can leave if you-”

Hope shakes her head. “I wasn’t planning on staying. I was going to go out with Lizzie somewhere.”

Josie chuckles, but it isn’t one filled with any negative emotions. It’s the chuckle of one who knows more than they let on, who aren’t surprised by what they see.

“Of course you were,” remarks Josie, closing her book. “Just try and… have fun? I don’t really know what you two are planning.”

Hope smiles and it feels like both of them are trying, which is something.

“I’m sure Lizzie told you. About what I did years ago,” says Josie. Hope nods her head, doesn’t see a point in running away or avoiding the subject.

“She did.”

“It was wrong of me, and I’m sorry for that. But well, being thirteen and with a crush on the most powerful girl in the school, it does something to you.”

It makes both of them laugh. “Don’t let Penelope hear you or I’ll have trouble.”

Josie stares at her for a moment, studying her.

“You seem lighter. You always seemed as if you had the weight of the world on your shoulders and enemies all around you. It was maybe something which attracted me to you. But now…” she gives Hope a small smile, “you look calmer. I think we both know why.”

They don’t talk anymore, both don’t need more words to understand what Josie means.

The bathroom door opens after a moment, Lizzie looking at them with a smile.

“Ready to kidnap me, Hope? Jo, if dad comes tell him she kidnapped me,” teases Lizzie as Hope gets up from the bed.

Hope rolls her eyes and opens the door. “As if your father would believe that.”

There’s a magic between them, Josie notices. 

Shared between glances and smiles, between touches done without a thought, Hope’s hand on Lizzie’s back to push her forward, Lizzie’s hand on Hope’s at the door.

Josie had seen the start of it back at thirteen.

She was seeing the growth of it at sixteen.

“Have fun, guys!” calls out Josie before the door closes.

Perhaps that was her own growth too, not being scared of that magic growing more.

\---

“I heard you.”

“What do you mean, Hope?”

“You heard me and Josie talking and you stayed in the bathroom to spy. You weren’t really doing anything, were you?”

Lizzie smiles and gives Hope a warm glance.

“You two are friends. Besides, I have to make you stop running away from facing the problems in your life.”

Hope laughs and hits her shoulder, hand falling to hold Lizzie’s.

That’s the end of the conversation.

\---

They walk for a while in the woods, Lizzie leading and Hope following.

“You do realize you can’t exactly kill me here, right? I can transform right now if I want,” teases Hope.

Lizzie rolls her eyes. “Another thing I might have noticed. You really don’t think I can’t commit arson in the most perfect way.” She turns to Hope with a fake hurt pout. 

“You wound me, Mikaelson.”

It makes Hope laugh, pushing her and nearly making her fall.

“Are we close to wherever you are taking us?”

There is a mysterious smile on Lizzie’s lips as she nods her head. “It’s a place I found once. Kind of like a cave, but I made it better.”

“Your VSCO hang out? I saw some videos-”

“I swear to God, if you compare me with a VSCO girl, I won’t hesitate to find a hydro-flask and shove it up your ass,” replies Lizzie.

“Now _ that’s _something exciting to try in bed,” says Hope, playing along. Lizzie sends her a glare.

“I would hit you, but I’m against animal abuse.”

“That brings back some thoughts. If I’m part wolf, does that make you a furry?”

Hope doesn’t really expect it when Lizzie trips her, thankful for her fast reflexes, succeeds in catching herself in time before she got a faceful of leaves. 

“We’re here!” says Lizzie, voice high and face too innocent to be without fault.

Hope rolls her eyes and sees how the cave is covered by large plants, almost as a curtain of some sort.

“You have taste for decor, so show me.”

Lizzie nods her head and leans down to kiss her.

Hope groans as she feels Lizzie siphoning magic, keeping her close even as the Lizzie tried to break the kiss. 

There was always a rush from when Lizzie siphoned from her, a connection that formed that made Hope feel incomplete when it ended.

“Needy,” murmurs Lizzie when she finally manages to break the kiss. She whispers a spell of some sort and the vines open enough space for them to enter.

Hope gasps when she looks inside, taking in the fairy lights and the small fireplace which was almost embedded in the rock. Then there was the red couch, and beside it a fridge and a small round table. It was a perfect hideaway. 

“I usually come here when it gets too much at school,” says Lizzie behind her. She walks around, takes in the small details.

Lizzie takes off her jacket and leaves it on a hanger she has created in the rock. Hope meets her eyes and Lizzie lets her explore. It was kind of a big cave, and she could see flashes of Lizzie everywhere.

There were angry lines on the walls, done by magic and Hope doesn’t need to think much to come up with the reason why they are there.

In one hidden corner of the cave rests a table, covered with thick books and papers. It looked like Lizzie spent her fair share of time here.

“This almost looks like another room,” calls out Hope. Lizzie laughs from the other part of the cave.

“Well you are surrounded by three walls there. That’s why I made it my small office. Come on now, I got everything ready.”

But Hope doesn’t, looking surprised at the three pictures stuck on the wall.

One was Josie and Lizzie, smiling at the camera and both happy.

_ Day one of when I realized how much I really loved my sister. _

The other was Josie and Lizzie with Alaric and Caroline, probably from the last time Caroline came back to the school.

_ Day one of when I realized how much I missed having my family complete. _

The third one surprised Hope. It was a polaroid of… her. She was painting in her room, eyes concentrated on the canvas before her and hair messy, overalls hanging off her hips.

_ Day one of when I realized it. _

What was _ it? _

Hope shrugs to herself, smiling as she turned and her eyes widened when she looked at the food resting on the table.

“Where did you even-”

Lizzie points at the small shelves in the corner beside the fireplace.

“I came here earlier. I’m sure you didn’t think I came here just to look at you,” says Lizzie.

Hope’s heart is full, blinking her tears away as she walked to sit on the couch beside Lizzie.

She gives her a kiss, gentle and short, the opposite of their kisses months ago.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Liz.”

Perhaps it’s the softness of her voice or her sincerity, but Lizzie turns to look at the food with a blush on her cheeks.

“Don’t thank me. Let’s eat.”

They are comfortable as they eat dinner, shrimp with fried octopus as starter and one of the best plates of spaghetti with seafood and tomato sauces that Hope has ever tasted.

“The fact you can cook so well, when last time you tried, you nearly set the kitchen on fire just for a lemon cake,” Hope swallows her food, “that is some Lizzie Satlzman behavior.”

Lizzie rolls her eyes as she wipes something from Hope’s chin. “Its not my fault desserts aren’t my forte. For tonight, I decided to play it safe and bought desserts.”

Hope’s eyes widen when Lizzie comes back with a plate full of-

“Beignets,” breathes out Hope. Lizzie nods her head, leaves them on the table as she gathers the other plates.

She takes one, bites on it gently and she swallows her tears with her bite.

“These are-”

Lizzie sits beside her with a smile. “Yeah, from New Orleans. Let’s just say MG is a very fast driver when he wants to be.”

She stares at Lizzie. Stares at her for a good moment before her tears start falling and Lizzie looks at her alarmed.

“Oh my god, are they not okay? What’s going on-”

“I love you,” blurts out Hope.

That’s how she tells Lizzie she loves her. She throws out her big plans and tells her in a cave after the best dinner and with a beignet on her hand and with sugar on her lips.

Lizzie is left speechless and Hope nearly runs when she gets up. But she sees her going towards her small office in the corner and stays put, wiping her tears as she waits.

“I uh-” Lizzie returns with what Hope knows is a painting covered with brown paper, “-talked with my mom these past few days. I asked her for a favor and she was glad to help.”

She gives it to Hope and sits again beside her.

Hope glances between her and the painting before opening it, mouth hanging open as she looked at it.

Lizzie smiles shyly as she gets rid of the remaining paper. “Your dad had given this to my mom, as a gift for you when you got older. She told me it also came with a letter.”

She sees the letter and opens it, Lizzie’s arm falling around her waist as the painting rests between them.

_ My dearest Hope, _

_ Years must have passed since I painted this. If you have this then it means Caroline held up her end of the promise and finally gave it to you. _

_ There are moments in life where we don’t really know what we really feel. Where wounds of the past bleed into our present. This painting is supposed to represent that. _

_ But you, Hope, you were the healing to all wounds. You are the reason why our family lived with a new found hope in our hearts, a hope for a new beginning. _

_ You brightened our lives the same way that the colors make this painting brighter. I might not be by your side as you read this, but I’ll always remain in your heart. _

_ I hope with all the fatherly love I have in me that you are happy now. That perhaps my not-so-perfect way of raising you didn’t hurt you enough to turn you into the monster that I was. That maybe you have found your partner for life, the one who makes the colors in your life brighter. _

_ I’m proud of you, littlest wolf. I’m proud of the strong woman you must be now. And for your poor father, please don’t be so harsh on yourself. Learn to love yourself as I would have loved you. _

_ I love you, Hope. Always and forever. _

_ Your dear father, Klaus Mikaelson. _

Hope is sobbing by the end of it, falling into Lizzie’s arms with the letter still in her hand. Lizzie is crying, holding Hope as close as she can and trying to convey the love and support she felt for her.

It wasn’t the first time that Hope had cried to Lizzie about Klaus. It was the first time, however, that she had cried from happiness.

Lizzie moves them after, puts the painting down gently and her hands move to Hope’s cheeks, wiping her tears away with her thumbs.

“I was going to tell you first, you idiot,” murmurs Lizzie, eyes warm and face close to Hope’s. “I was going to tell you and then give you this and then ask you to dance with me. Why do you love ruining my plans?”

Hope laughs through her tears. “Didn’t you say I loved ruining your life?”

Lizzie laughs too then, leans their foreheads together, Hope’s hands letting the paper fall as they wrapped around Lizzie’s shoulders.

“Even if we may have wanted to kill each other for most of our lives, it seems that you have really grown on me, Mikaelson.”

Hope looks at her, waiting for Lizzie to say those five words.

Lizzie sighs and looks at Hope with the softest smile that Hope has ever seen on her face.

“I love you too, Hope.”

Hope grins then and kisses her, laughing as Lizzie loses her balance, falling back on the armrest as Hope climbs on top of her.

She continues kissing Lizzie as if the girl was her oxygen, kisses her freely and for the first time, she doesn’t see a shadow of Klaus in her. Doesn’t see a shadow of his hard-given love in her hard-given confession.

Hope kisses Lizzie and for the first time, she hates nothing.

\--

The painting hangs on her wall and Hope stares at it in wonder. 

It portrayed a white rabbit running from the darkness of the woods towards the light. Hope loved how her father had painted the woods, dark and mysterious and yet leaving the rabbit a path to run upon, a safe place. The colors changed slowly, becoming lighter until the rabbit was running out of the darkness of the woods, his path leading to smaller trees and a larger path.

“Your father was very talented,” whispers Lizzie behind her, arms tightening around Hope’s waist.

Hope smiles, laces her fingers through Lizzie’s and leans her head back.

It opens an opportunity for Lizzie, who kisses her neck slowly, blowing a raspberry and making Hope laugh.

“I did get my genes from somewhere, Lizzie.”

Lizzie smiles against her neck. “I see you learned your biology. I was starting to wonder if you needed tutoring.”

Hope half glares at her, but it melts into a soft look when Lizzie gives her a gentle smile and kiss.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

That’s how she asks Lizzie Saltzman out. With her head leaned back and looking at her with nervous eyes.

Lizzie smiles, blushes pink as her hands move to Hope’s cheeks.

“We really did things quite out of the usual order, didn’t we?”

Hope laughs, eyes sneaking down to Lizzie’s lips.

“Makes sense to me.”

Lizzie catches her gaze with a smirk. “Me too.”

She kisses her and Hope?

Hope loves it. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me to talk about this or any other work of mine or anything else (also if u fell in love with me from this wink wink) on my twitter @thehopesaltzman


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